


Delicate

by Hustler



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Daryl in a dress, F/F, First Kiss, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 17:40:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3618534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hustler/pseuds/Hustler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"rickyl merlin/medieval AU, daryl in a bodice and silk dress & rick in armor. maybe daryl makes coins by working at the brothel above the local tavern and rick is a traveling knight. (✿ฺ◡ฺ‿ฺ◡ฺ)"</p><p>It's kinda sad. Rick is a tortured soul. Lots of comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delicate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [senoritablack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/senoritablack/gifts).



> Yo, I know shit about this era and I can't write their speech, so I didn't try to fake it cuz I don't want to offend or sound weird as fuck. Check out the song "Delicate" by Damien Rice.

Rick traveled with a weary heart. Visions of carnage waited for him every time he closed his eyes, and the sounds of the fallen echoed beneath the gallop of his horse. Fear had permanently found a home in his heart, and he knew deep in his soul that he would never recover.

He needed to stop for the night. The wound on his chest worried him whenever he felt another trail of wet ooze out. His horse was run ragged as well, and he couldn’t force it to continue.

A small building appeared before him and although it was small and humble, he recognized it for what it was.

His armor bore down heavily on his spent body as he tied his horse to the post. Sounds of muffled, happy chatter interwoven with music drifted out from inside. It sounded surreal to his ears, used to cries for mercy and voices only to be heard in memories.

He took a deep breath and hoped the mere sight of his armor and emblem didn’t invoke violence. He would give anything for a moment of peace. With the last remnants of his energy, he tried his best to look inoffensive and stepped through the door.

~``~

A beautiful man bustled from table to table, bringing people food and drink. He was quick and efficient, pretty fabric billowing behind him as he worked. Rick wondered then if he had fallen off his horse and was suffering hallucinations.

He looked around desperately, hoping someone else had noticed. Everyone seemed engaged in their own parties, or slipping into sleep, paying him no more attention than deserved. No one else seemed to be alarmed by the man in a _dress_.

There was no doubting he was a man either. The delicate sleeves he wore did nothing to deny the fact that those shoulders could have also belonged to a knight. His steps were hardly graceful and he spat back obscenities that even Rick had never heard in the heart of battle.

The man turned and something pale and pink peaked from within his brown locks. Were those bows in his hair?

A woman passed by him with a tray of empty cups and smiled at him.

“Welcome,” she said kindly, eying his sword.

“Thank you,” Rick rasped out automatically. Was that his voice? He hadn’t heard it since battle.

 “Please, have a seat. There’s room somewhere,” the woman said and left quickly.

“Daryl!” The woman shouted.

The man in the dress turned to her in the middle of receiving an intimate caress from another man. Rick felt his haggard breath catch in his chest.

~``~

Daryl lifted the skirt of his dress as he turned in the direction of Carol. His dress wasn’t particularly long, it hardly dragged on the floor. It was just a habit he couldn’t help. He liked the way the dress felt swirling around his hips.

The tavern was fortunately busy again, rowdy with a happy crowd. He sighed tiredly as he refilled a man’s cup on his way over. Michonne, one of his original customers, slipped an arm around his waist as he passed by her table. He no longer warmed her bed, but she still helped draw attention to him.

She had her new lover with her, Andrea. She looked him over with appreciative eyes and even though he should have been used to it by now, he always felt the inevitable urge to run away and hide.

“Aww, don’t be shy,” Michonne cooed at him and brought him onto her lap. He glared at her and she laughed. Andrea ran her hand over his thigh, petting the skirt.

“You look very pretty tonight, Daryl,” Michonne said.

Daryl couldn’t help but blush.

“You do,” Andrea agreed, smiling at him. The people around them started cheering and before he knew it they were all loudly proclaiming their admiration.

~``~

Rick looked around the crowd in bewilderment. The sudden shouting had him on edge, but when his heart calmed and he understood their words, he settled in confusion. Not only were they all apparently aware of the man and his unusual attire, but they were quite enthusiastic about it. It shocked the whispers of ghosts from his mind, and instead instilled a curiosity like no other.

Daryl looked quite comfortable in the lap of a beautiful woman. A pretty blush rested high on his prominent cheekbones as the woman whispered something in his ear. Rick felt his stomach fluttler when he saw him tuck a lock of hair behind his ear.

The woman who had greeted Rick approached Daryl then. They spoke for a moment, Daryl still in the woman’s lap, and then they looked in his direction. Rick held back the need to draw his sword, but did not avert his gaze.

That was the face of a hunter.

Daryl suddenly stood up from the woman’s lap and walked toward his direction. Rick swallowed what he could of his dry mouth. Daryl walked with purpose, strong legs marching toward a target and Rick knew he was a man to fear if crossed. His dress whirled around him, and yes, those were most definitely small bows in his hair.

~``~

Daryl leaned his hip against the table the knight had occupied and stared him down. He was either brave or incredibly stupid to stop in his tavern, let alone the area. It wasn’t known to be a hospitable place for men of his kind.

Still, Daryl was reluctant to admit, he had never seen a more regal man. His armor obviously worth more than Daryl would make in a lifetime, elegant and embossed with gorgeous and frightening designs. Even he could appreciate the craftsmanship that had gone into it. Somehow, it suited the knight, and miraculously didn’t make him look like an overzealous, pompous prick.

Even more so, the knight was humanized by the painfully obvious haunted look in his eyes, shadows of true horror lurking behind them. It made him look the right side of dangerous and unhinged with his dark curls falling around his face, unkempt beard only emphasizing his sharp cheekbones.

Daryl’s eyes narrowed around the man’s neck and ear. It was darker than the rest of his pale face, obviously stained with blood that had been shoddily wiped at. He must have been a fearsome sight from whatever battle he had returned from.

“Hello,” the knight said calmly. His voice gave out near the end, and Daryl saw a vulnerable shift of his eyes. He looked embarrassed…and worried. His posture looked forced and if looked at closely, it was clear the knight was leaning more into his armor and the table, than he was actually holding himself up.

Normally, Daryl would have refused to serve him, but he doubted the knight could cause trouble in his weakened state.

“I’ll get you some food,” Daryl said, turning on his heel.

A hoarse sound erupted from the knight and Daryl looked back.

“Wait,” the knight said, after a painful cough. His eyes caught on Daryl’s dress for a moment before he reached for a pouch.

Daryl fought the urge to bite at his nails. He wondered what it was like for a man like him to see another in a dress. He had been so focused on him, that he had honestly forgotten it was not common practice. His cheeks threatened to burn at the thought.

The knight counted his coins slowly and then looked back at Daryl.

“Do you have anything for my horse?” he asked.

Daryl nodded and relief spread across the man’s face.

“A spare room as well?”

No, he didn’t. Daryl even used his own room for his nightly services. He was surprised at how hard he found it to turn him away, but he shook his head and the knight’s face fell.

Daryl did bite at his nail then, and eyed the man before sitting across from him. If anyone could afford his average night’s earnings it would be a man of his status. He could take his room and Daryl could share with Carol. Unless, he wanted to make use of Daryl’s full services…Daryl would not be opposed.

“You can stay, though it will cost you more.” Daryl said, finally.

The knight looked at him with gratitude and despite the grime and sorrow covering his face, he looked rather handsome with the beginnings of a smile. That smile never made it across his lips, instead his mouth dropped open in shock when Daryl told him the price.

The knight’s mouth then set in a hard line and his eyes hardened before he nodded. He looked betrayed. Daryl almost groaned at the remorse spreading in the pit of his stomach, for a knight no less.

“I’m not swindling you. Several people make use of the room I’m lending you,” Daryl said, softly.

Rick looked at him in question and Daryl sighed in frustration. “I’m a whore.”

~``~

Rick watched the man pick up his dress and leave. He was stunned to say the least. It all suddenly made sense. The affections the people gave him, the flirtatious air between him and every person that he attended. He certainly had the look for it.

It was surprising how well the dress suited his frame. It was charming somehow, definitely easy on the eyes.  

A bittersweet thought invaded his mind, and though it was painful, he did not brush it away. Shane would have laughed at his naivety and filled his ear with lewd descriptions of his own nights spent with whores. He would have encouraged Rick to seek out Daryl’s comfort.

~``~

Daryl returned to him with a bowl of stew and bread, and a tankard of mead pressed against his fitted bodice. Rick had been looking at the food in eager anticipation until he noticed how the bodice outlined his trim body. When Daryl placed the food in front of him, he snapped out of his trance and Daryl gave him a funny look. Rick looked down in embarrassment and reached for his food. In his nervousness he managed to topple the bowl and a small dollop of stew fell on Daryl's white sleeve. 

Daryl let out an angry noise when the spot bled into a stain.  

"I apologize," Rick said, sincerely. 

Daryl looked at him in surprise and grunted something out before he left. 

Rick sat there for a moment without touching his food, realizing he just apologized to a man for staining his dress. 

It was hard not to develop a warm appreciation towards Daryl with how well he looked after him. His cup never ran dry under his watchful eye. Every time he finished his food, he would appear and take his plates, only to return them with more food. 

~``~

"Are you going to bed him?" Carol asked, teasingly. 

"Are you joking? Did you see how red he turned when Andrea yelled out she wanted a turn at my ass? He's too  _proper,_ " Daryl replied. 

"Let me rephrase my question then. _Would_ you bed him?" Carol asked, cheekily.

Daryl shrugged his shoulders and played with a longer strand of his hair.  

Carol giggled in delight. 

"Shut up," he barked. 

"He's quite handsome. I bet he's chivalrous," Carol sighed, dreamily. 

Daryl laughed. "He apologized for staining my dress." 

"Of course he did," Carol said, and walked away. 

Daryl sighed and dropped his hair, watching the tired knight struggle to stay awake. 

~``~

Daryl saw the knight nod off a few times, only to see him jerk his head violently awake every time. It was obvious his mind hadn't left the battlefield yet. It was possible it never would. Daryl unfortunately, knew that all too well.

He looked around and most of the crowd had disappeared already. It wouldn't hurt to close early for one night. The knight was paying him well anyway. 

Michonne and Andrea kissed him goodbye and gave him eerily similar smirks. 

Daryl closed up the tavern and saw the knight rise from his seat with determination and his breath caught in his throat. He truly was handsome, the epitome of what proper ladies were said to dream of marrying one day. A fantasy Daryl might have had on a few drunken nights.

Daryl nervously met his eyes and led him to his room. Carol was right, he was rather taken with the man, though a part of him was still repelled at his position of power. Yet, It wasn’t enough to save him from the desire growing steadily within him.

“Will you be needing anything else?” Daryl asked, carefully.

“Could you help me with my armor?” the knight asked, a strange tone to his voice. 

Daryl nodded and ignored Carol’s giggle as she went to her room as well.

“My name is Richard. I prefer Rick.”

They moved carefully as they removed his armor and Daryl’s lust was reigned in when he saw Rick’s wounds. His body looked about as starved as he seemed earlier. He was still thick with muscle in certain places, but he looked well on his way into decay. His skin stretched terribly around his ribcage and he was covered in bruises that suggested broken bones. The open wound on his chest looked rancid and needed immediate attention.

Daryl sighed and set the armor out of the way and left the room to come back with a wet cloth and basin.

“You idiot,” Daryl scolded him, sitting with him on the bed and cleaning the crusted over blood.  

“Excuse me?” Rick asked, bewildered.

“You were sitting there with a hole in your chest the entire night. You’re lucky you’re even conscious, _Rick_.”

Rick smiled and Daryl dug into the wound a bit more forcefully than he needed to.

“Ow!” Rick exclaimed.

“Quiet,” Daryl ordered and lightened his touch.

~``~

Rick watched Daryl as he worked. In the glow of the lamp he was able to appreciate more of Daryl’s facial features. He was very rugged and yet, there was something indefinitely feminine about him. The small bows in his hair suddenly didn’t look so out of place. He really was attractive in his own way.

“What?” Daryl asked, he looked up from his work and gave Rick a frightening stare.

“I like your bows,” Rick said, simply.

Daryl blushed and bit back a smile. “Thank you,” he said quietly, the worry around his brows lifting slightly.

He sighed under Daryl’s touch, relaxing against the pillows, and felt Daryl’s eyes roam over all his old wounds and battle scars. Memories threatened to take over so he closed his eyes and focused on the sensation of the cloth as it ran over other shallow wounds. He was halfway to sleep when he felt Daryl’s hands take over and sink in deliciously in all his taught muscles.

Rick licked his lips and let the man alleviate the aches. Daryl was brilliant with his hands, and found every spot that needed attention. Rick groaned unabashedly and appreciatively at every knot Daryl rubbed away. He had never known such immediate relief, nor such care.

It had been so long since he felt the welcomed touch of another that his body fought against sleep with dangerous yearnings.

“I should go. You need to rest,” Daryl said, suddenly taking his hands away.

Rick opened his eyes and saw Daryl getting ready to leave his side.

“Not yet,” Rick pleaded, reaching for Daryl’s hand. “Please?”

Daryl looked intently into his eyes before settling back down. He looked down at his hands and picked at his sleeves. He looked about as nervous as Rick felt.

“Are you requesting my company for the night?” Daryl finally asked, looking at him from the corner of his eyes.

Rick’s heart just about stopped. He sat up in the bed and contemplated the answer. A moment of guilt washed over him as he considered the fact that he would be seeking pleasure while so many remained dead. Had recently died. Some, even in his arms.

He almost sent Daryl away, but he was weak. He needed the comfort in order to continue his journey. If he didn’t have at least one pleasant thought to keep him warm on his way home, he wasn’t sure he would make it.

_Help me forget their screams. Help me forget what they took from me. I want to feel human again._

“If you’ll have me,” Rick said.   

Daryl looked at him then and nodded ever so slightly.

~``~

Rick’s kiss was feather-light. It was so soft Daryl could barely feel him at first. Slowly, as Rick gained confidence Daryl felt more pressure and his lips began to burn in sweet torture. He wanted to savor it, and hold on a little longer, but a desperate greed spread from his chest. It came from somewhere old and neglected, washing him with sorrow.

Daryl kissed him back a little too eagerly, his hands desperately touching every part of Rick he could reach. When he brushed over marred and raised flesh he controlled his restless hands and set them delicately on Rick’s chest.

Rick’s lips spread warmly against his in a smile and he kissed him a little deeper, a little more liberatingly. His hands threaded through Daryl’s hair, mindful of his bows, and opened Daryl’s mouth carefully with his own. It was overwhelming, and euphoric in ways Daryl had never felt before.  

Daryl pulled away and let himself breathe before he pushed them too far. He looked into Rick’s blue eyes and found understanding. He stayed close but reached for the wet cloth and wiped away at the blood that still remained on Rick’s neck. It was a welcomed distraction and still intimate enough to preserve the moment.

Rick moved with him, tilting his neck back when Daryl needed him to, that patient and content smile still gracing his lips. Daryl couldn’t resist then, to kiss the underside of his jaw and run his lips against his beard. Rick immediately grabbed his face and kissed him again.

Rick ran his hands lightly over Daryl’s arms before they stood up and removed his dress slowly, drawing it out. Then, Rick’s eyes found his own scars peeking out from his underdress. Daryl expected him to ask, to say anything at all, instead Rick rested his forehead against his and closed his eyes. A look of sympathy and anguish furrowed his brows and he let out a deep breath. Daryl closed his eyes as well, feeling exposed and vulnerable.

Rick drew him into an embrace and held him, close enough to feel him take in every breath. His heart against Daryl’s chest.

~``~

Daryl continued to wash the rest of Rick’s body with the wet cloth when they parted. Rick’s breath grew ragged as he went on and felt the insistent strum of arousal. He unlaced Rick’s britches and stared into his eyes as he pulled them down. Rick’s length pressed against his stomach and Daryl ran the cloth over it.

Rick hissed at the wet and cold, but it did nothing to dissuade his interest. If anything his heart beat faster and his body craved more. Daryl pushed him back onto the bed and ran the cloth between his thighs. His strokes grew longer and more satisfying, and before Rick knew it, he was thrusting helplessly in the air. Daryl chuckled and took hold of his cock.

Rick’s thighs twitched as Daryl slowly lowered his mouth over him, breathing out hot before taking him in. The warm, wet heat of his mouth and smoothness of his tongue had him groaning. He quickly grabbed the bedding underneath him and held tight as Daryl took him in further. All the while, Daryl continued to look up at him and the intensity of his eyes had Rick weak and restless at the same time. The sinful sounds his mouth made had him pulsing and he was sure Daryl could feel it on his tongue.

Daryl smirked at him and suddenly every inch of him was inside his mouth. Rick cursed into his fist and Daryl swallowed around him. Rick's hips were just barely held down by Daryl's arm. Rick begged him to let up and Daryl did after a long suck to the top. He rested his chin on his hipbone and smiled viciously at him.

~``~ 

Rick pulled at his dress in a frenzy. Their hands tugged at his thin sleeves, and ultimately the dress slipped down his chest, but never made it off.  

Daryl's dress bunched on his thighs as he rode Rick’s cock. For a torturous moment, he had Rick deep inside him as the soft material of the dress rubbed over his cock. He felt it catching sometimes, sticking onto him, and then sliding back down again. Rick reached up and fisted a handful of his dress, lifting it up to a side to expose Daryl into the air and the chill made him squirm. Daryl hissed and squeezed his hands against the headboard, dipping his back low into a continuous undulation.

A flash in Rick’s eyes was all the warning Daryl got as he was flipped over and Rick was driving into him. Daryl threw his head back in exasperation, whimpering with every hard thrust. Rick leaned over him and kissed him fiercely, sucking on Daryl's tongue before biting his lip. Daryl grabbed him by the hair and pulled him back down for another kiss that was more bite than anything.  

Daryl wrapped his arms around Rick and closed his eyes as he neared his orgasm. He gasped into Rick's ear as Rick pulled mercilessly at his cock.

~``~

Rick stared down at the blur of Daryl's cock in his fist, eagerly waiting. Daryl yelled out Rick's name and then he was coming. Rick slowed down, but continued to stroke him through it. Rick felt his come land warmly against his stomach and watched with a perverse fascination as he stained his dress. It was such a sinful sight that Rick couldn't help but use his dress to clean him up.

Daryl trembled when the material of the dress touched him, but he didn't move away. It spurred Rick on and he lunged in for one final kiss before he sought his own completion inside Daryl. He kept one hand buried in the wet mess of the dress and took his pleasure from Daryl's welcoming body. A strong part of him wanted to add to the mess between him, but he couldn't pull away from Daryl's heat even if he tried. Daryl began to whisper something to him and then he was coming, hard. 

~``~

“Do you think you can leave it behind?”

Rick wanted to lie, he wanted to claim the peace he deserved and leave the fighting for the young and passionate. He’d done more than enough, more than was thought possible of one man.

“No. I don’t think I can,” he answered honestly.

Daryl nodded against his chest. “I didn’t think I could either.”

Daryl pulled out one of his bows and unraveled it. He took Rick's hand and loosely tied the ribbon around it. 

~``~

Months later, Daryl still hadn't forgotten about the knight. He often wondered if he at least gave himself time to rest. If he was out there somewhere, far and amazing, exhausted and just barely holding on. If he needed a warm touch to forget death. 

Daryl picked at the ribbon wrapped around his wrist. 

"Daryl," Carol called out to him. 

Daryl looked at Carol clearing a table. He followed her eyes and at the door was Rick in his gorgeous armor. 

* * *

 LOL check this out [pic out ](http://assholehustler.tumblr.com/post/114176684205/darylspanties-this-is-for-assholehustler-who-is) of Daryl in a medieval dress flipping me off. 

THANK YOU FOR THE HELP AGAIN <3333  [take_a_bow06](https://archiveofourown.org/users/take_a_bow06)

 


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